“Then tell me more about her,” she said. “Is this her furniture? I wouldn’t think it was your taste, but maybe I’m wrong.”
“It’s hers,” he said.
“Did you get rid of anything that belonged to her? If I go upstairs will her clothes be in the closet? Her slippers by the bed? Her toothbrush near the sink?”
How could Dawn know that? Did she know he still had a coffee cup—Sara’s lipstick on the edge—that he refused to wash?
He rested his hands on his hips and stared her down. “What’s your point?”
“You aren’t ever going to move on at this rate,” she said. “Let’s go get some boxes, clear out all her stuff, and donate it to a charity. I think she’d like that idea.”
“You don’t know her.” Kellen crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw in a harsh line. “I’m not getting rid of her belongings. They’re all I have left of her.”
“You’re wrong. You have memories of her. Lots of good memories. You just shared many of them with me.”
“They’re fading already,” he said. “Seeing her things reminds me of them.”
Dawn lifted a hand to touch him, but he stepped back. She closed her hand into a fist and pressed it over her heart.
“She wouldn’t want this for you, Kelly. Not if she truly loved you. She would want you to be happy. She would want you to kiss a sexy redhead when she asks you to.”
Dawn struck what he assumed she thought was a sexy pose and gave him a heated look. He snorted on a laugh.
“Sara was the most jealous woman I’ve ever met. The truth is, I never found it difficult to maintain friendships while dating women before her, but she insisted I spend all my free time with her and if I didn’t, she’d call to check up on me. She was convinced that I’d find someone new.”
“So not all of your memories with Sara are happy,” Dawn said.
“Of course not, but the happy ones are the only ones I want to remember.”
Dawn shook her head. “There is no way I can ever measure up to her, to all happiness all the time. Don’t you get that?”
“This isn’t about you.”
“It is about me. Not all of it, clearly, but part of it is about me. I really want to be with you, Kelly, but damned if you aren’t making it impossible for me.”
“Then maybe this isn’t going to work out.”
“Do you even want it to work out?”
“I do, Dawn. More than anything.”
“Prove it.”
“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“Kiss me.”
It was a simple request, really, though it felt like a monumental task. But maybe, just maybe . . .
He crushed her against him, a hand fisting in her hair—for what, to punish her for pushing him where he knew he needed to go?—and ground his mouth against hers. The lust that slammed into his groin and heated his blood was no surprise, but the emotion that clogged his throat and tried to choke him caught him off guard. Pressure built behind his eyes, forcing up tears so rapidly that they fell before he could shove them back behind the wall he’d built as their dam long ago.
A sob ripped from him, breaking against Dawn’s soft lips, pulling her under with him as her tears mingled with his.
“It’s okay,” she whispered between tender kisses. “It’s okay, Kelly.”
It didn’t feel okay; for chrissakes, he was shaking all over and showing his weakness to the one person he wanted to see him as strong. Dawn had broken him. Was she happy now? He’d been holding it together for so long—so long—and with one stupid kiss, she’d completely shattered him. But she felt so good—so good—in his arms, her softness against his chest, her encouraging whispers in his ear, her sweet scent surrounding him. She was his strength, his salvation. And he feared he was still in love with another woman when the one he wanted to love, the one he needed to love, was right there in his arms.
Chapter Six
Dawn hated that Kelly looked so embarrassed as he pulled away and wiped away his tears with both hands. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her as he pulled in a deep breath and then tore open the front door and rushed out to stand on the deck. Eyes closed, he tilted his face toward the sun and basked in its warm, golden rays.
She wondered if they could recover from this—this line they’d crossed. That she’d crossed. She hadn’t expected him to actually break down, but was glad he had. Not because she enjoyed watching him suffer, but because he needed to fall apart—really fall apart—before he could start to put himself back together. And if her persistence to push him forward ultimately tore them apart, she knew she’d mourn what could have been, but maybe he’d finally be able to move on with some other lucky woman. Not that she was giving up on him. She’d never met a man who could love as deeply as this man loved, be as committed as this man committed himself, and she’d be a fool to let him get away. She just hoped that he could love her and be as committed to her as he had been—still was—to Sara.
Dawn followed him outside. The wind caught the door and its slam made his body stiffen, but he turned. Maybe to see if she was still there. She was and always would be, if he’d let her.
“Sorry about that,” he said, the breathless hitch in his voice twisting the ache in her chest. “I usually suffer my emotional breakdowns in private.”
“You’ve cried over losing her before, haven’t you?” If he’d kept that all bottled up inside him for five years, it was a wonder he was still standing.
His nod was barely perceptible. “Not while anyone was watching.”
She grinned crookedly, hoping to loosen the tension between them, because it was unbearable after the fun, carefree day they’d spent together in the car. “I felt it more than watched it.”
“Oh.” He raked a hand through his long hair, the shiny ebony strands catching the sunshine. “I didn’t squeeze you too tight, did I?”
She shook her head. “You could never squeeze me too tight.”
“Can we go?” He nodded toward the beach. “I could really use that walk.”
“You want me to come with you?” Maybe that shouldn’t surprise her, but after witnessing his reaction to her pushing, she’d been certain he’d be shoving her away.
“Only if you’ll hold my hand.”
She bit her lip at the sudden rush of emotion that caught her off guard and left her breathless. “I’ll hold on tight,” she promised.
His smile suggested he understood the subtext behind her promise. And again he didn’t shove her away. In fact, when he reached for her hand and took it in his, he tugged her to stand so close beside him that her bare arm touched his and that now familiar flutter of excitement set her trembling.
“Thanks for being a pain in my ass,” he said.